


Bad Reputation

by stuckysheart



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1950s AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Biker Gangs, Bottom Steve Rogers, Domestic, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, but tall, greaser!Bucky, soc!steve
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:55:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckysheart/pseuds/stuckysheart
Summary: "Everyone here is so boring and bland." Bucky continues; as if he didn't just give Steve the closest thing he's had to a heart attack. "They're all so judgmental too. I don' think they like the way I look. What about you, sweet thing, d'ya like how I look?"





	1. intro.

In which Steve is forced to attend his parents' annual ball, and _oh boy_ , is it an eventful experience.

 

**Playlist**

Bad Reputation // Joan Jett

Adolescent Fluorescent // Arctic Monkeys

R U Mine // Arctic Monkeys

Should I Stay or Should I Go // The Clash

 

**Main Characters**

 

Soc!Steve Rogers

 

****

 Greaser!Bucky Barnes

 

 

**TW**  

Violence

Drug & Alcohol Use

Homophobia

 Abuse


	2. one.

Sighing softly, the blonde hue scans the crowded room, tired eyes lighting up upon finding what he'd been search so long for— _a free seat_.

 

Despite living in one of the biggest mansions in the state of New York, Steve somehow still struggled to find an empty seat during these gatherings to rest and avoid the copious amount of people who wanted to meet him. Not because they genuinely cared about him, of course, but what a story was it to have spoken to the sun of one of the richest men in all of the state.

 

Especially since his parents tend to lock the door of his bedroom any time they had these parties. 

 

"Thank goodness." He muttered quietly, quickly and discretely making his way through the crowd, apologizing half-heartedly anytime he'd bumped into someone. And just when he was about to finally reach his destination, finally take a rest from standing for about three hours straight--

 

"Steven! Come over here, dear!"

 

He winces at the shout of his name, groaning inwardly before putting on the charming smile he plastered at these events and turning to the source of noise. His mother,

 

"This is my son, Steven. Steven, these are Margaret's parents, you know,  _the lovely young lady you have been seeing_."

 

Steve stifles a snort at that. He wouldn't quite call what they were doing as 'seeing' one another, but he knew well enough to keep that to himself. Before his lack of response would  be too conspicuous, he smirks charmingly and takes Peggy, or well Margaret's, mother's hand, placing a delicate kiss on her knuckles. 

 

"My my, what a gentleman you've raised, Sarah." The women gushes, her makeup unable to conceal the arising blush on her cheeks, and Steve has to force himself not to roll his eyes.

 

_If only you knew you were blushing because a fairy kissed your hand._

 

A faux prideful grin breaks out on his mother's face as she tip her head back with laughter, obnoxious and posh as ever, "why of course, otherwise I wouldn't dream of letting him near your daughter."

 

"Good," Peggy's father pipes up, "We only want the best for our darling."

 

 _Liar_ , Steve wills himself not to sneer,  _all you care is that she gets married to any square with money and a big name._

 

Steve knew because he was in the same boat, waiting to be sent off to ask for pretty lady's hand in marriage. Not because he was genuinely in love with her, or that they had any kind of connection to begin with, but because she would be rich, well known, and already accepting of the fact that she would be seen as nothing more than a trophy wife. 

 

It was a cruel, dark world hidden behind the glitz and diamonds, and while Steve thought himself to be one of the few men with his privilege who actually recognized this harsh reality, he was still petrified to do anything about it. 

 

Which is why Steven Grant Rogers, son of Sarah and Joseph Rogers, and one of the biggest names in Ohio, was in fact a closeted homosexual. 

 

Eventually the adults began to speak about businesses and gossip and just about everything else Steve couldn't care less about, and he deemed that about ten minutes into their conversation was enough for him to slip away to his safe haven without notice, the somehow still free seat. 

 

"Finally," he mutters softly, leaning back against the chair and crossing his ankle across his knee, watching the party go on with disinterest, tossing a smirk to any of the young ladies or even woman who he caught staring at him to humor himself.

 

Yes, Steve was in fact the talk of the town. Well, since he turned 18 just last month.

 

All the ladies (and secretly men) swooned over his charm and good looks, which wasn't a surprise. Although he was on the more lanky side due to illness early on in his life, his height and manners compensated for it. He was the golden boy just about anyone dreamed of being with.

 

Sometimes Steve fantasizes about standing up on dining tables during one of these balls and come out-- purely to see the look of shock he would receive.

 

Suddenly, something, or rather  _someone,_  catches Steve's eye. Not just because this person was probably the most attractive guy Steve has laid his eyes upon, but because of the fact that his  contrasted so greatly to the name-brand suits and gowns everyone else was wearing. His tattered leather jacket worn over a white shirt accompanied his dark blue jeans and black combats screamed 'i'm only here to cause trouble'. 

Not to mention, said guy was  _Bucky Barnes_ , leader of the most notorious biker gang in the state.

 

To say Steve was shocked would be far too much of an understatement. Yes, he was eighteen and most definitely not as sheltered or innocent as he may portray; however he'd never come face to face with a biker, or even a greaser for that matter. People like that just didn't appear around in the area he lived in.

 

Somehow, Bucky manages to slip into the crowd and Steve is practically at the edge of his seat, trying to, as discreetly as possible, look for the man.

 

In fact, he was so focused, that he didn't notice the sudden presence next to him.

 

"This is the most miserable fuckin' party I've ever seen."

 

Steve chokes back a squeak at the sudden voice, snapping his head to its owner, eyes widening even more in shock. 

 

"Everyone here is so boring and bland." Bucky continues; as if he didn't just give Steve what felt like the closest thing he's ever had to a heart attack. "They're all so judgmental too. I don't think they like the way I look. What about you, sweet thing, d'ya like how I look?"

 

All Steve can think is _how rude_ , not only does this mystery man sneak up on Steve, but he's using pet names too? He wants to tell him off for being so inappropriate but it seems when he locks eyes with the biker his words get caught in his throat. 

 

"I-I uhm," Steve stutters eloquently, and Bucky's already smug smirk widens.

 

"Oh my, do I have  _the_  Steven Rogers stuttering? How honoring." He coos and Steve's jaw goes slack.

 

"W-What—How did you—"

 

"Please, don't act so modest, everyone in town knows about you, Sugar. In fact, I also heard you happened to be quite the ladies man," Bucky winks and Steve has yet to actually close his mouth due to shock, "I just had to come see what all the fuss was about."

 

Eventually he's able to tear his eyes away from the biker and look back at the crowd, who at this point have quieted down a significant amount, staring at the two with either curious or judgmental looks—possibly both.

 

"Y'know for the talk of town you don't really talk much," Steve teases, chuckling at his own pun while Steve was still trying to register everything that was going on. When he does, however, he manages to surprise the both of them with his unwavering tone.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

"So he does talk! Well, my buddies and I," Bucky tilts his head to the other three individuals of his gang who Steve hadn't even noticed, "just had to come and see what all the fuss about the _'Rogers' Annual Ball'_. Can't say I'm not disappointed."

 

Scoffing, Steve stands up from his seat, ignoring the sinking feeling in his chest when he realizes Bucky practically looms over him, in height and muscle, "then I think you should leave. People of your kind are not welcome here."

 

 _Even though you are incredibly attractive_ , but Steve decides to leave that part out.

 

Bucky doesn't bat an eye at Steve's insult. "Oh,  _feisty_. And to think you were so shy just seconds ago. I like it."

 

However, Steve is too busy studying Bucky's face to answer. Steve realized it wasn't just his position as leader that made him so notorious, but his looks too. With his slicked back chestnut hair and prominent, piercing blue eyes accompanied by long lashes and plump lips that greatly contrast to his rugged looks. In fact, he'd look like an over grown teddy bear if it wasn't for the several fading scars on his face and knuckles, stubble, and what could only be assumed was a heavily tatted body as Bucky had an owl inked the front of his neck.

 

Anyone with a neck tattoo must have more, no one  _just_  has a neck tattoo.

 

"Y'know," Bucky's voice snaps Steve out of his trance, and he suddenly realizes just how close the brunette has gotten to him, "I'm starting to think that the lady's man of town isn't really into ladies at all."

 

Bucky's warm breath trickles across Steve's face and before he has the chance to respond, he suddenly hears the an all to familiar angry voice booming through the house.

 

"And what the hell do you think you're doing here, Barnes?!" Joseph Rogers sneers shoving through the crowd before stopping just a couple of feet away from the duo. The blonde feels his heart plummet, not just because of his father's scowl but because everyone just watched him check out a  _man,_ Bucky Barnes at that.

 

"Well I was just about to join in on the party," Bucky says in an obnoxiously loud mock posh accent and Steve can't help the tiny smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth, which immediately disappears when the taller suddenly wraps an arm around his waist and takes his right hand with the other, "but then I noticed I was the only one without a dance partner, so I came to ask little Steven over here, if you don't mind?"

  

 _Classy_.

 

"Of course I mind, boy! Now you have five seconds to get your scrawny ass out of my house!"

 

Bucky is once again unaffected, and just to test the man, he pulls Steve even closer, causing the boy to let out a quiet squeak. "I wasn't asking for  _your_  permission, I was asking Stevie's." Bucky turns his head to him, "well, do you?"

 

 _You have a reputation to uphold_ , Steve reminds himself before shoving Bucky off of him. "Yes, I do actually."

 

Maybe he was a bit of a hypocrite for judging Peggy's parents.

 

Feigning offense, Bucky dramatically gasps and places his hand on the left side of his chest, "and to think we had somethin' going on. I'm hurt, doll, I really am."

 

At this point everyone in the party has become dead silent, not bothering to hide that fact that they were watching the scene unfolding before them. Even the three other members of Bucky's gang had begun to watch, but instead of having judgmental frowns they shared Bucky's cocky smirk.

 

"I fucking meant it, barnes. One... Two..."

 

"Alright alright!" Bucky raises his hand in defense, eyeing the incredibly expensive marble bust not too far from them before setting his gaze back to the irate man, "I can see where I'm not wanted."

 

And just as he begins backing away, he  _accidentally_  trips, knocking over the bust that shatters on the floor with a loud crash.

 

Steve along with everyone else in the room stare wide eyed at his mother's favourite and most prized possession, now in laying pieces all over the floor, until a shout of _guards_  sounds through the room.

 

"and that would be my cue to leave. See you soon, sugar." Bucky smirks, giving Steve one last wink before dashing through the crowd along with his three other members as the buff men in suits similar to Steve's own chase them down.

 

The blonde doesn't even bother to move and help clean up the remnants of the statue, despite his mother shrieks, but instead stares at the spot where the group had just been moments ago, in complete and utter shock. 


	3. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some early 1900-50s slang translations before you read
> 
> Bluenose: prude, uptight, self-righteous  
> Real gone: in love  
> Stud: Handsome Guy  
> Dolly: Cute Girl  
> Fairy: Gay  
> Make A Pass: Flirt  
> Bearcat: A woman with a hot temper/spite  
> Quail hunting: Flirting with girls

Steve was sat on an antique wooden recline chair, perched beside a lake encompassing a large part of the backyard. A large, red and white striped umbrella shielded him from the harsh beaming sun. Beside him was Peggy, sat on a chair same as his.

 

Each of them had a Mint Julep in their hand, delicately sipping between laughs and dialogue.

 

They were on one of their 'dates', which evidently meant Steve was gossiping about last night's events.

 

"And then he went I'm hurt, sugar, I really am." Steve mimics Barnes' south-side accent, which he still refused to admit he found highly attractive. Maybe he had a thing for greasers, maybe.

 

"No way," Peggy gasps for the twentieth time since Steve has begun telling the story of the previous night's events on their current 'date', "then what?"

 

"He broke my mom's favorite bust... the nerve." Steve scoffs, shaking his head with indigence as he took another sip of his tea. Peggy rolls her eyes before urging him to continue, "and then what?"

 

"He finally took the hint and left with his buddies," he replies, setting his glass onto the little table in between where the duo where sat.

 

"Buddies?" Peggy quirks a brow, "you never told me there was more than one."

 

"Well yeah, of course there was, those kinds of people always travel in packs," the blonde hue rolls his eyes as though it was the obvious, "two guys and one girl if I can remember correctly."

 

"Girl?"

 

"Yeah, ah, brunette and almost my height I think, I don't really--wait a second _Margaret Elizabeth Carter_ don't even think about it."

 

"What?" she pouts with faux innocence, "I was just a little... curious."

 

Steve hums in response almost as if to say 'yeah, whatever you say', "I know your taste, Carter, I've heard plenty of your fantasies to know you're more than just 'curious'."

 

"Whatever, Rogers, don't act as if you weren't real gone for the guy."

 

Steve wrinkles his nose in disgust, "I don't have to act--don't give me that look! I wasn't. Sure he's charming and good looking... and has a nice voice but other than that he's real scum."

 

"Oh stop it, you're beginning to sound exactly like your father. Just accept it, Rogers, you think the guy is a stud. I know for a fact that you enjoyed watching him knock over that bust."

 

A disgruntled noise arises from Steve's throat as he sits up, an annoyed scowl plastered on his face, "first of all, never compare me to that bluenose. He always acts like there's a stick up his ass. Secondly, you're my beard, aren't you suppose to be directing me away from the whole homo thing? Third of all, I only enjoyed watching him knock over that stupid thing because it's ugly and I'm pretty sure my mom valued it more than her own child."

 

Peggy sits up too, the mint julep is forgotten on the mini table beside Steve's, a challenging smirk on her face, "as your beard I'm supposed to cover up the fact that your gay, not change it. And as your best friend, I'm supposed to direct you to your true love."

 

Suddenly Steve leans in and stops so that their noses are touching, lips nearly touching, "you're incredibly over dramatic."

 

"Steve, what on earth are you--"

 

"Father is watching from the window," the two spare a quick glance at the window where surely enough Steve's father was shamelessly watching them with an impatient look on his face, "and if I don't look like I'm flirting with you he'll pester me about it till the next time we see each other."

 

They make eye contact again, "there's no way in hell I'm kissing you, Rogers."

 

"Not a chance," He mutters, suppressing the urge to scoff and instead allowing his lips to tug into a smug smirk, "just act like I'm what I'm saying is making you fall head over heels."

 

Peggy mutters something under her breath before pulling off the best 'dolly' act she can, one she saw on a chick flick, by tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes downcast and a shy grin plastered on her face.

 

Steve wants to cringe for her, knowing this was not at all the Peggy Carter he's known for so long, but he can't help but also feel relieved when he sees his father slip away once again through the corner of his eyes. He pulls away immediately and so does Peggy, side-eying him as she picks up her drink once again.

 

"You're the most obvious fairy I've ever met."

 

"This is coming from you, Carter?"

 

"Yes, it is. I've had plenty of men try to make a pass on me, I know how a straight man acts. I bet you were trying to envision Barnes' face on mine just now to make it more bearable for you," She quipped, glare morphing into something more playful and Steve looks away to hide the pink tint heating up his cheeks.

 

"Aw you're getting all flustered--"

 

"Shut it, Carter."

 

-

 

"You're a real idiot, Barnes."

 

Said man gasped in feign offense, hand over his heart as he slouched against the booth melodramatically, "you wound me, Dum Dum."

 

A couple of people surrounding glance at the group in annoyance but kept their mouth shut. The bar was over-crowded and bustling, as it usually was, and people could still hear one another loud and clear considering it was so small. However Barnes had no qualms about being disruptive, he knew no one right in the head would utter a  to him word. It also helped that he was on the owner's good side, considering how many bar fights he's stopped (or ended, to be precise). 

 

"I ain't jokin'. The Rogers are powerful people, and yes even more so than us," Dum Dum gives Barnes a pointed look before continuing, "we may have control in the streets, but they have power where it matters."

 

The brunette beside him, Dottie, hums in agreement and smirks when Barnes shoots her an annoyed look, "sorry, Bucky, but he's got a point. Had I known we were going to be causin' such a ruckus I wouldn't've joined in the first place."

 

"I don't regret a thing," Bucky shrugs, leaning forward and taking another swig, "I laid my eyes on the prettiest fella I've ever met."

 

The confession raised a few brows, everyone leaning in with curious looks, so Bucky indulges them, "gorgeous set o' blue eyes n' lips, he's got long lashes too, n' cheekbones, hell put a wig on 'im and I woulda' mistaken 'im for a dame."

 

Sawyer, sat beside Dum Dum, whistles lowly, "yeah, you're gone."

 

"Utterly," Jacques agrees.

 

Bucky, unfazed by the teasing, shrugs and leans back in his booth, as smug as ever, "I'm gonna make him my best guy, just you watch. Sweet thing was practically _swoonin_ ' under my touch."

 

"I didn't know you go for squares," Dottie quips, leaning forward with a challenging glint in her eye. Bucky, knowing full well by know she was just trying to push his buttons, merely widens his smirk.

 

"I don't, but this one is special, I know it. Plus," he leans in, mischief dancing in his blue eyes, "don't think I didn't see you eyeing that pretty dame at the ball whose jus' as much of a square as pretty boy is."

 

Not unlike a deer caught in the headlights, Dottie flushes and all the fight in her drains from her face. Satisfied with the reaction, Bucky snatches her drink and takes a long swig, not looking away from her wide eyes and the rest snicker quietly.

 

"You've got some nerve, Barnes." She finally mutters.

 

"Don't you know it, Bearcat."

 

"I'd advise you against it, but y'never listen to a thing I say so I'm just gonna warn you," Dum Dum says seriously, catching Bucky's attention, "squares don't go for hoods like us, especially ones with a rep like Rogers'. Not t'mention, even if he did, his father would have his head, and yours t' go with it."

 

The brunette's playful demeanor drops momentarily before returning just as fast, "you're not wrong, but hell, I'll never be able t'live with myself if I let this one go. I hafta at least try. Anyways, where are the rest?" he asks in a clear attempt to change the topic of the conversation. 

 

"Quail hunting," Sawyer answers. 

 

"I bet." Bucky scoffs, taking another sip of his stolen drink, not missing the frown Dum Dum was throwing his way. 

 


End file.
